


i used to be love drunk, but now i'm hungover

by omello



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, help me my crops are dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 13:27:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13054917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omello/pseuds/omello
Summary: He only calls when he's drunk.





	i used to be love drunk, but now i'm hungover

**Author's Note:**

> i'm gonna start uploading all the bullshit i've written in the past few months. if ur reading this PLEASE consider this ship i'm dying

“I miss you.”

 

Slurred, clumsy words, not even allowing Omar time to get out a greeting. A silence followed.

 

“I mi—“

 

The voice attempted to speak again, but Omar cut it off with a sharp, “You’re drunk.”

 

“Yeah, ‘m drunk,” was the quick reply, “and I  _ miss _ you.”

 

If Omar had any less of a heart, this display would’ve been pitiful. Pathetic.

 

“Chris,” he sighed carefully, running a hand down his face. “You need to stop.”

 

“Omar  _ please _ ,” Chris whined in return, shuffling coming from the other end of the phone before he continued. “I miss you so much. It’s not— ‘s not the same without you in my life.  _ Nothing _ is.”

 

The words hurt to hear. It should be a relieving and heartwarming sentiment from the man Omar was still so in love with, but they  _ hurt _ .

 

“Why can’t you ever fuckin’ miss me when you’re sober?” 

 

Omar was never going to blow up at Chris; he could never bring himself to. This wasn’t him blowing up at Chris, he told himself.

 

“Omar…”

 

“Why couldn’t you fuckin’ miss me when we were still together? When I missed  _ you _ _?_ ”

 

Chris didn’t respond. Another heavy silence fell between them.

 

“You need to stop doin’ this, Chris. You need to quit callin’ me,” Omar continued, words biting and cold. It was evident by now Chris got the message. “I’m not gonna let you keep playin’ games with my fuckin’ heart like this.”

 

Chris had all but muted himself at this point, and Omar honestly wasn’t sure if he had taken a single word of what Omar had said into his drunken mind. He didn’t care, he convinced himself.

 

Omar hung up after a small farewell and no response from Chris, and the adrenaline slipped from his system like a wave. He didn’t feel empowered whatsoever— he just felt  _ bad _ . Gross. Like he should pick up that phone and call Chris right back, apologize to him and tell him he loved him. Tell him the  _ truth _ .

 

But Omar wasn’t about to allow himself that.


End file.
